


over you

by inexhaustible



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 5 + 1 Fic, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexhaustible/pseuds/inexhaustible
Summary: five times kiichi says "please," and one time he doesn't have to.





	

**i.**  
“Please,” Kiichi says, and Kimishita smirks, turning to the bowing redhead. Kiichi holds his breath, waiting for the answer. His fists are clenched at his sides, and Kiichi feels shaky, as if he’s run a marathon. He’s desperate, and he quashes the anger that flares up when he sees Kimishita’s satisfaction, ignores the indignant flush that rises in his cheeks. 

“You’re too greedy,” Kimishita says, and something short-circuits in Kiichi’s brain. It’s true, he knows. Kiichi wants and he wants and he  _wants_  – and that’ll never change, he thinks, meeting Kimishita’s eyes. 

At least on the pitch, he has a chance of getting what he wants. He falls back into the familiar pattern of bickering and taunting and pushing and pulling, giving as good as he gets, savoring every furious rake of Kimishita’s eyes over him. _If this is the only way I can get you to look at me, bastard, fine. I’ll take it._

* * *

**ii.**  
Kimishita has him backed up against the wall, and with every step that he takes towards him, Kiichi feels as if he’s about to catch fire. Practice was over, but Kimishita had grabbed him by the collar, forced him to stay behind. 

“The fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been off your game, playing even worse than usual,” Kimishita growls. Kiichi shuts his eyes for a beat, takes the barb for what it is, but something shivers under his skin. Disgust, self-hatred, and  _want_  arc through him, and Kiichi wants to fall into the floor, wants to lay down and not get up for days. 

“Kiichi,” Kimishita says, his tone still irritated. Kiichi opens his eyes, and when he does, he has to hold back the urge to let his panic show. Kimishita’s close – way too close, and there’s an expression almost like worry on his face. Kiichi feels strange, like he’s running a fever. ”If you’re sick, you should’ve spoken up before practice, you bastard. Stop dragging all of us down.“

"I’m not,” he manages to grit out. “Not sick.” Kimishita huffs an angered breath, leans back and yells at him. 

“Then what the hell is your problem?” Kiichi digs his nails into his palm in an attempt to stop the impulse from taking over, but the words are already flooding out of his mouth. 

“You’ve known me since we were kids,” he fires back. “You know damn well what my problem is – or are we still going to pretend that we’ve just forgotten about it?” Kimishita’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back. 

“You –” Kimishita cuts himself off, staring at Kiichi, conflicting emotions racing across his face. Kiichi keeps his gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at him. 

“Please,” Kiichi says, and his voice comes out harsher than he’d intended it to. He’s grateful that his voice doesn’t tremble, at least. “Get out.”

Kimishita stands there silently, and Kiichi can feel his eyes burn holes in his head before he takes a step back and finally leaves. Kiichi hears the door slam shut and finally relaxes, leaning back into the wall and running a hand through his hair. 

_Fuck._

* * *

**iii.**  
(They’re in middle school when Kiichi ruins everything. 

They’re friends, and even though they bicker and have their spats, they’re more often reaching out to pat the other on the back than to threaten blows. It’s a good time, one that Kiichi ends up missing for years – not that he realizes it then. 

“I think,” Kiichi says, into the phone, “that I might not like girls.” There’s a long silence, but Kiichi can hear Kimishita’s breathing across the line, knows he’s still there. He’s suddenly seized with fear, with regret – he was certain it wouldn’t be a big deal, but the line is still dead silent. 

“Please,” Kiichi says, and it’s almost begging. “I don’t want this to change anything.” It does, though, he knows, and it would even more, if Kimishita knew he’s wanted him since Kiichi knew how to want  _anything_ , wanted everything: his attention, his touch, his kindness. 

“Okay,” Kimishita finally says, and hangs up. 

The next day, Kimishita looks for excuses to rile him up, gets under his skin, and Kiichi goes with it, lets himself be goaded, because he knows it’s his fault. He should have just been satisfied with the way things were, but he’d wanted to push. It’s the same the next day, and the next, and the next, until Kiichi’s forgotten what it’d been before all the anger, all the frustration. There’s something charged and raw in Kimishita’s eyes when he looks at Kiichi, when he pushes and pushes until Kiichi snaps, eyes blazing and fists balling up at his sides.

He’d wanted to see if Kimishita would stay, or if he’d leave him, just like they all did, eventually. Kiichi’d hoped – he’d been so sure, but –

That night and the night after that, Kiichi cries himself to sleep, hating the way his ragged breaths echo so loudly throughout his empty house.)

* * *

**iv.**  
Nothing happens after that. Things go back to normal, for the most part, but Kiichi’s suspicious. Kimishita has been surprisingly quiet at practice, hasn’t taunted Kiichi as much as usual – and Kiichi can feel eyes on his back as he plays, feeling as if he’s being studied like one of the specimens in his parents’ medical textbooks. 

Then, they leave for training camp, and in an enormous stroke of bad luck, Kimishita and Kiichi are the last two on the bus, forcing them to sit next to each other in the very back. 

The silence is painfully tense, and Kiichi stares daggers into his lap, Kimishita pursing his lips and looking resolutely out the window. Eventually, Kiichi lets his head drop down, ignoring the burn in his neck. He’s tired, and lets his eyes close. 

He pitches forward and startles, cursing under his breath. 

He tries to lean his forehead against the back of the seat in front of him, closing his eyes again, having marginally more success – but he pitches to the side after he starts drifting away, and can’t seem to get settled. Eventually, he gets relatively comfortable, and as he starts to fall asleep again he feels himself lean to the side slowly, as if something’s cushioning his fall this time, and settles contentedly on something soft and warm. 

Fingers brush tentatively through his hair, and he mumbles something, half-asleep. “Please,” he says, when the hand stills. “that feels good.”

“Idiot,” he hears, distantly. Vaguely, Kiichi recognizes that he’s lying horizontally across the seat now, but doesn’t have time to question it before he knocks out. 

When he wakes up, he’s lying across the seat cushion, Kimishita already standing halfway across the bus, moving to the exit. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, seeing familiar mountains outside of the windows. 

Glancing over at Kimishita, Kiichi suddenly remembers what he’d felt before falling asleep and feels himself flush, fingers curling together.  _What – what was that?_

Hope curls warmly in his chest and Kiichi doesn’t bother quashing it, swallowing his confusion down and getting up. 

After all, there was training at hand. 

* * *

**v.**  
“I want it,” Kiichi says, caging Kimishita in with his arms. “And I know you want it, too.”

Kimishita refuses to meet his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, asshole.”

“Drop the fucking act,” Kiichi snarls, hitting the wall next to Kimishita’s wall with a fist for emphasis. “I know you know, and I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. You want me.”

Kimishita bristles at the last sentence, puffing up with indignation and anger. Kiichi sighs, letting his vulnerability shine through, and Kimishita pauses, leaning back and studying him quietly. After what feels like hours, Kimishita speaks. 

“So what if I do?” he says, sounding like a challenge – and Kiichi closes his eyes, because it’s about goddamn time. Still, he doesn’t entirely believe it, still that same terrified child at heart. 

“ _Please_ ,” Kiichi says, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Kimishita.” His eyes are still closed, because he’s not sure what he’ll do if he opens them, but Kiichi feels an irritated huff of breath against his cheek, feels a hand card through his hair and pull him down. 

When Kimishita kisses him, Kiichi feels as if something sharp in him has begun to dull, feels as if it’s spring and the frost inside his chest has begin to thaw. He still hurts, deep, but –

– it’s a start. 

* * *

**(+1.)**  
They’re in bed, and even though it’s been minutes already since they’ve finished, Kiichi’s still breathing hard, can still feel the flush in his cheeks. He shifts closer, pressing  his back insistently against Kimishita’s chest, smiling when Kimishita begrudgingly drapes an arm over him. Kiichi’s about to fall asleep when he hears it. 

“Go out with me,” Kimishita mumbles into his shoulder. 

“What was that?” he asks, even though Kiichi’s entirely aware of it the first time. His pulse is pounding double time in his ears, harsh and deafening. 

“Damn it, don’t make me ask you twice, Kiichi,” he snaps. 

“Please,” Kimishita finally appends. Kiichi’s not sure when the usage of his first name shifted from being a contemptuous force of habit to being genuinely fond, but it makes something golden well up in him, and he feels as if he’ll see some of it in shining under the skin between his fingers, if he stares hard enough. 

“Yeah,” Kiichi says, smiling so wide it hurts. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> shoot me requests on tumblr @tsukujin!  
> this was written at 1 am so forgive any mistakes / ooc bits you see;;
> 
> liberties taken with their backstories for the sake of fic :')


End file.
